


Glancing the Abyss

by mewsomniac



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Evil, Angst, Darkness, Darkness Around The Heart, Drama, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Kingdom Hearts III Speculation, M/M, Out of Character, Post-Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Romance, Smoking, Soul-Searching, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 05:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17574914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewsomniac/pseuds/mewsomniac
Summary: Choosing to walk the pathways between, Sora has taken on the darkness to create balance in the world. When the last of his light vanishes, he embarks on a journey to save his life and his love from being swallowed by the abyss. It all started when Roxas said, “It really has to be you”... [SoRoku fic with OOC dark!Sora]





	Glancing the Abyss

**Glancing**

**the**

**ABYSS**

* * *

 

**Disclaimer:** All characters in this fanfiction are 18 years of age or older.

I don’t condone underage smoking or drinking.

I started writing this fanfiction in 2010, after playing  _ Birth By Sleep _ . However, many details WILL NOT match the Kingdom Hearts canon as it is.

* * *

 

__ 1,104 days. I’m still not sure why I counted them for so long, but I cling to each one, down to the second, like a prayer. A hope. An endless longing.

_  “Sora, don't ever change.” _

           That's what Kairi said to me a very long time ago, but here I am. My body is strained, my mind is struggling, and I could really use a smoke. It’s the only real way of dealing with this much stress, it seems. As the nicotine swishes around my synapses like a saccharine syrup and the tobacco fills my lungs with milky gray ghosts, I embody comfort. This addiction is almost as much of a blessing as it is a curse, because at least it gives my mind something else to linger on.

__ Don’t think about him—just think about getting the next pack of cigarettes. Get your fix, don’t bother with the rest. Focus on that.

           He was upset when I began smoking, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it. Fear had vanished from my life, so a little vice like this meant nothing to me.

           I asked him once, “I’m practically immortal. You think cigarettes are going to kill me?”

           He responded, “The universe’s favorite thing is irony, you know.”

           I tried not to smoke around him if I could help it, but I was pretty certain he’d put up a front in his initial protests. The way he looked at me when I exhaled the smoke, the allure dancing in his eyes as it drifted from my mouth, how quickly his hungry lips came for mine afterwards… it was obvious there was an attraction there we chose to leave unspoken.

           I always did my best not to think about it as I lit another one up, ready to douse my emotions with some breif bliss. At least it’s pretty easy now.

           A new era of the universe has been underway because, for the first time in recorded history, the walls to the other worlds would not return after each Keyhole was locked. It was uncertain if they ever would, and as time went on, travel that was once forbidden became commonplace. Without hesitation, The King set about creating a system to allow for smooth trade and immigration between worlds. With the newfound trade across space, things like consistent brands of cigarettes, liquor, and new technology were easy to find.

           The nearest world that carries my brand is Radiant Garden. Usually, if I’m feeling stuck, I always come back to it. He would never risk coming here to hide, as many of our friends have already tried helping me look for him there. Yet somehow, visiting it almost creates a reset in my spirit: I drop by, see my allies, enjoy the flourishing city, and leave feeling refreshed.

           As I exit the portal of writhing abyss into a nondescript alley, I immidialy notice the happy commotion emanating from the Marketplace. Stepping into the bustling crowd, it’s clear there’s a festival going on: the streets are crowded with people, every possible space is jammed with pop-up merchant stalls, the sweet and savory scent of food is palpable in the air, and the tinny sound of music drifts merrily above the commotion.

           What’s especially striking about this particular gathering is that people are donning various masks, and distantly in my head I can remember a story about traditions that mark seasonal changes taking place in Radiant Garden. Now that the town is almost entirely safe from Heartless, these celebrations are finally making a comeback.

           I wade through the crowd, admiring the handiwork on the masks as they pass by me; each surprisingly unique despite their many consistencies. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a stall handing them out in exchange for small donations. I make my way over and give an especially generous sum for their last lion mask: a wood-carved masterpiece with brightly-swirling patterns. It fits like a charm.

           After exploring more of the stalls and sampling the many different foods available, I decide now is a good time to reup my cigarettes. Following instinct, my feet carry me straight to the nearest merchant carrying my brand. The little haggard Moogle working recognizes my cloak and gives me a discount to celebrate the occasion. I’m about to tap my new pack when a percussive beat seizes my attention.

           I slip down the stairs and into the Borough where the festival continues. An enthusiastic band is playing a song I know too well, one that sends a nostalgic warmth into my heart. I let myself stand still and enjoy the tune, each note thrumming in my ears... when I hear a cadence carrying along the breeze. But the band has no singer.

           And that voice…

           It envelops my brain, plain as day.

           Creeping through the crowd, I very carefully search for the melodic lilt. I pass each disguised figure cautiously, being mindful should someone possibly recognize me and blow my cover. A few rows ahead of me, there’s a man wearing a black-and-gold-spotted cat mask. The white hood on his jacket is pulled up, but it’s obvious his jaw moving as he sings the lyrics; the sound only just barely muffled. 

           My heart snags in my throat.

           That voice, that sense of style... it’s unmistakable.

           The song ends, and the crowd cheers. The man goes to leave, and I follow after him, maintaining my distance. Sticking myself to the shadows, I become nothing more than a silent blur behind him. He wanders into the restored segments of Radiant Garden, and it feels like forever until there’s nobody else around.

           The crowds eventually dwindle at Central Square. Finally, we reach the landing of the Front Doors where he comes to a stop. The setting sun is hot on my back as I watch him in silence.

           With a sigh, he pulls back his hood and gently removes the mask, peering uninhibited toward the still-fractured castle steps. He lingers for just a moment, as if transfixed by something, until he finally goes to take a step forward.

           “Roxas.” his name pours from my mouth like a sweet, bittery chocolate syrup. It seems like forever since I’ve been able to say his name with such a kindness to my tone, without the gruffness that surfaces from my ugly spite. It’s almost refreshing, but at the same time, weak.

           Suddenly, time grinds into a harsh slow-motion, and my vision tunnels out everything but him. I watch the world go frame-by-frame like a gritty film reel, but each detail is so crisp and sharp I know it will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

           He pauses for only a moment with my shadow just touching his heels. His head turns towards me; blond locks catching in the midday light and encircling a halo around his already angelic face. His crystalline blue eyes glint with innocent curiosity and wonder; the same glint in mine that once led me into the abyss. I can see his face spell out the five Ws ( _ who-what-when-where-why _ ) as he regards me questioningly—with the sun behind me, I must only be a silhouette with a slightly familiar shape.

           His eyes scan for mine amidst the dark form and I step forward, my shadow now casting over his knees and feet. As I tilt my head back to gain a better look, the bangles on the cloak jingle with the motion. His eyes go wide in realization, as if the noise triggered a faint memory.

           Every day I’ve imagined finding him, and every day I’ve worked through a different scenario for when I finally would.  That’s 1,104 and some-odd capture plans thus far. I’ve only allowed 100 or so of them for a fairy tale-like vision where Roxas would see me, joyfully run into my arms, and exclaim how he’s missed me or has been looking for me everywhere. Of course, these hundred-or-so fantasies only occurred the same number of days after he left, when I was still optimistic.

           The most common scenario is where I see him, and before he can run or scream or  _ blink _ I send as many vectors and tendrils at him as I can, as far as I can, around as many places as I can. Although it’s hard to admit, I get a sick thrill off the mental image of him wriggling and whimpering in dark bindings, looking at me with horror-struck eyes, as I bid the shadows to drag him towards me. Sometimes the darkness would even creep its way under his clothing…

           However—maybe even unfortunately—it will be easy to capture him with my shadow already ghosting across his legs.

           His head assumes its original position facing forward and I see his body shift to run, but it’s too little too late. 

           No, Roxas, you’ll never be too fast for me.

           Just as he takes a quickened step forward, time eases back into its regular pace, and smoky arms jut from my shadow to grip Roxas’ ankles with claw-like hands. He yelps in shock (a noise I would rather not hear him make) and I send coils from my shadow to cushion his fall. He thrashes against them pitifully, forehead pressing into the mess, as he curses everything to Hades. 

           I approach him quickly—my body still in a state of collection while my mind is a mess of excitement and disbelief.

           Holy Zeus... I found him! It’s so hard not to shout in joy. I nearly want to cry.

           I clear the few yards between us in what the anticipation turns into an eternity. If I want to talk to him I’ll have to let him go. He can’t open a portal, but if he runs far and fast enough I won’t be able to catch him, even with my shadows. Binding him won’t earn me any answers either, and if I don’t time it right, he’ll be able to dispel the darkness. I need a spot where he won’t be able to run or hide anywhere.

           Fortunately, I know just the place.

           I open a portal below us; holding my breath as the pressure of the darkness pulls us under. 

           1,104 days, and I’ve finally found Roxas. The last time I sought him out, when he was still trapped in my heart, I lost track of how long it took me I was so focused in my goal.

           All of this started when Roxas said  _ “It really has to be you.” _

           Seeing him before me, in what I could only describe as the flesh, is what sealed my fate.   
I knew I had to save the worlds… and also him. It was my duty to rescue all those who were trapped in my heart; a prison hidden in my own body. I had to free them… I had to save Roxas.

           We used the great freedom brought by the open doorways to achieve my seemingly-endless quest. As each person trapped inside left me, they took a chunk out of me. Though my heart grew smaller, it somehow became stronger. 

           Roxas was the hardest. It took the longest for me to free him.

           It wasn’t until after he was free that I realized a terrible truth: that Roxas had become the embodiment of light in my heart. His freedom took all but the very last of it in my soul. I knew then that separating my heart into so many pieces caused irreparable damage, and if Roxas were to leave my side, I could very well die.

           I wasn’t afraid of dying. I didn’t fear the darkness. I would trade my life for his happiness in a heartbeat, so to speak. If the worlds begin to collapse again, I know it will be okay. There’s a surplus of Keyblade wielders again now, so the universe would be fine without me. Troubled, but fine.

           Obviously, I told no-one about this. I decided it was my burden to bear alone.

           Once he was freed and comfortable in his own skin, Roxas and I journeyed alone back to Twilight Town so I could reunite (or rather, introduce) him and his old friends.

           I was more than willing to leave him there and let him live the life that was stripped away so suddenly. After all, my chance was gone; I could never go back to the mundanity of a normal life, not after everything I’ve experienced. One way or another, my fate was sealed among the stars and I would not return to my previous life willingly.

           I observed them from the entrance to the Usual Spot and, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel empty. The joy on Roxas’ face was so breathtakingly lovely and it was all I needed to be complete; his smile unlike any other sight I’ve seen in this existence. It’d been a very long time since I’ve been this certain about anything: that this was the perfect day to die.

           So I turned and walked away.

           It wasn’t more than a few steps into the Back Alley before I felt a hand gripping mine, soft and warm. It was Roxas.

           “Wait! Where are you going?” He asked.

           I was confused.

           “Don’t you want to stay here with them?” I responded, “Isn’t this the life you wanted?”

           He laughed, squeezed my hand, and I felt a flutter in my chest. “This is amazing, Sora, but I really want to stay with you.”

           My face was suddenly hot, and Roxas laughed at me again. He led me by the hand back to the Usual Spot and we spent the day with Hayner, Pence, and Olette. It was one of the better days of my life, one that I would remember often at my darkest moments or when I needed a spark to stay alive.

           We stayed at Olette’s house in Sunset Terrace that night. Roxas was completely passed out on the couch, and I happily took a spot on the floor. I realized in the stillness of the night I couldn’t sleep. My body was tired, but my mind buzzed: alive with an energy I couldn’t quell, and I figured taking a walk might help.

           I hiked up the path to Sunset Hill and welcomed the cool breeze of the summer night, distantly wondering what winter was like here. Then I had to wonder, did they even have winter in Twilight Town? The place seemed infinitely wrapped in midsummer sun, with the only reprise being the still night.

           Looking up, I watched the stars—the other worlds—twinkle in the velvety blackness above me. It was the first time I really had a chance to look up and take in the night sky since I saved the last of the worlds, and now they are in massive supply across space. It was a strange realization to think how small I was compared to the infinite cosmos.

           I caught a movement in the corner of my eye and looked to see a black miasma floating steadily across the ground. Though I was unafraid, it perplexed me to see shadows moving so gently in my direction; almost as if it were trying to not frighten me. I wondered if I was due for a Heartless attack, but staved summoning my Keyblade until the mass revealed it’s true purpose.

           It circled around my feet and I heard whispers emanating from it, too various and quick to decipher. A single tendril drifted from the fog and reached toward me. I bent slightly to examine it, and reached out to prod it with a finger.

           Carefully, the tendril snaked around my digit before drifting up my hand and over my arm. I straightened my body, and the whispers became more intense. I tried to focus on them, but they were too fleeting to decipher. The mass engulfed me, but it didn’t swallow me.

           I was not afraid.

           When I blinked, I was standing in utter darkness with my feet planted firmly on a jagged piece of glowing glass, about an arm's-length across on all sides. I gazed around at the abyss around me and a sense of nostalgia crept across my mind. I'd been here before, many times.

           This was my heart.

           Or rather, what was left of it. Just a small fracture of something much greater, previously an amalgamation of souls once sealed, but now scattered. I could imagine that Roxas took the biggest part, and all that was left is this.

           Still, despite its size, the piece I stood upon was shining almost blindingly. It was as bright as a full moon; its bluish-white hue cutting across the blackness like dozens of shining swords jabbing into the dark.

           There was a shift in the air around me, and I turned to look into the golden eyes of Anti-Sora.

           I wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Anti was the best of my Drive forms. Each time I'd rev up the ability, I'd reach deep into my heart to summon it from the depths. The power was unparalleled, and as more of my heart was lost, the easier it was to become it. Even against the abyss, its body was dark enough to cast a silhouette.

           I heard a voice, distant but familiar, echo in my head. It asked me,  _ “What do you fear?” _

           I answered, “Nothing… but I know what you fear.”

_ “Do you?” _ it bellowed.

           I smirked.

           “You fear  _ me _ .”

           Anti-Sora twitched, and I felt the emptiness around me writhe.

           Suddenly, my thoughts became flooded with the events of my experiences as a Keyblade wielder: the hero of the galaxy, knowing no obstacle, conquering every foe in my path. I knew then that the darkness had buckled beneath me and it was telling me that the light in my heart was too powerful to contain. Even dying and becoming a Heartless couldn't stop me.

           In fear of being extinguished, the Darkness instead wanted to band together with the most powerful being known in existence to achieve a balance. Without balance, the universe would completely fall apart.

           The folly of its inhabitants has always been of one side trying to best the other, which is impossible. Light cannot live without darkness. Darkness cannot live without light. Though they clash, and though they repel one another, they also must come together to keep existence in harmony.

           That feeling of being small in the cosmos had suddenly reversed.

_ “What will you choose?” _

           Anti held out its clawed hand.

           Riku thought he was strong enough, but he wasn't; his fear nearly destroyed him. Even Maleficent had been swallowed by the shadows her fair share of times, and despite everything, she was also too weak. Xehanort, and Ansem, and Xemnas… they sought to control the uncontrollable, and therefore they perished.

           The difference between me and them was that I could not feel fear, and instead, the darkness was afraid of  _ me. _

           I reached out and grabbed Anti-Sora’s hand, putting one foot from my heart into the abyss—

           “Sora?”

           I blinked and found myself suddenly back at Sunset Hill. Not a trace of the miasma was left.

           I heard Roxas’ yawning voice ask, “What are you doing up here?” I turned to see him padding toward me with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

           “Couldn't sleep,” I said. “Wanted to look at the stars.”

           He reached out from beneath the blanket to try and touch my arm. “Aren’t you cold?”

           I unconsciously jerked away before contact was made, worried he’d sense something had changed about me, and Roxas frowned at me in confusion.

           I tried play to it off jokingly, “Don’t want you to get cold either!” He seemed unconvinced, so I beckoned him to stand next to me. “Come and see.”

           We both gazed upward and let silence wash over us. With Roxas there beside me, I quickly felt relaxed. I went through so much to save him, fought so hard to make him whole again… it just felt good to have him there with me.

           A stream of light streaked across the sky, likely someone using hyper-speed to travel between worlds, and Roxas gasped. I let myself glance at him, and couldn’t help but linger on the sight; his unblinking eyes were wide in wonder, his soft lips curved in the gentlest of smiles... it was certainly not the first and is definitely not the last time I’ll swoon over him like this.

           Ripping my gaze away, my face flushed as a realization began to settle on me.

           I was not unfamiliar to these emotions. Thinking back, I’m certain it was even apparent to others: my desperation to free Roxas, how fond I'd grown of him, and the jealous-yet-understanding looks Axel had given me. Long ago, I’d been the same with rescuing Kairi… but that time was far gone.

           “I never thought I would be able to see the night sky again.” Roxas said, jarring me from my thoughts, and my heart pounded so loud I could feel it in my ears. He looked at me and I looked at him; the glow of the night gave his face a touch of mysticism. He grinned and I just about died on the spot. “Thank you for saving me.”

           Unable to bear another second, I laid a hand on the back of Roxas’ neck, leaned over, and kissed him. I felt him stiffen under my touch but, undeterred, I gently grasped his upper arm with my other hand and pulled him flush against me. Roxas relaxed then, and our lips melded.

           It was a perfect moment, one that I would dream of frequently in the years to come, desperate to return to those sheer seconds of bliss.

           It was then that I realized what I had done, so I released him, backed away, and sputtered an apology. “I’m sorry, I just… You were just so—and then—shit.” I had no idea what to say. “I mean, this is probably sudden for you. I don’t want to freak you out—”

           Roxas laid both hands on my shoulders, muttering “Just shut up,” before pulling me into another kiss.

           From then on we were unstoppable. No foe was too great, no journey too dangerous: we battled almost perfectly in sync. Not a single drive form, not even Anti-Sora, was as strong as the two of us. We went from world to world, wiping out enemies without a misstep. The color of the magic that curled around us in battle was white for him, black for me, but grey for us together. We had harmonized perfectly. 

           My breath returns when we exit the Betwixt and Between and a hot wind whips against my cloak. Happy with my selection of location, I let the darkness around Roxas disperse.

           He gasps, and clumsily stands to take off when his foot sinks into slippery sand, causing him to trip. He pushes himself up and twists his head left and right; frantically surveying the expanse of empty desert that goes on for miles around us.

           Growing up on Destiny Islands and also having trekked the Arabian desert multiple times over my life, I’ve mastered the art of walking in sand; I know for a fact that Agrabah was his least favorite world for that very reason.

           I think to when I teased him about it during our travels. One time I was practically doubled over in laughter when he managed to slip and faceplant.

           “Don’t you love the beach?” is what I asked though my hysterics, going to help him up. “You should be used to this!”

           “The sand is different here!” He yelled; face red, and patchy with chunks of silt. “It’s too loose!”

           I don’t let the memory phase me as I observe Roxas. He is still for a moment. I’m guessing he’s taking into consideration the setting sun adjacent to the full moon; I’ll have complete control in a few moments. Roxas sighs, and flips over to face me in defeat.

           For the first time in what my blackened heart can only perceive as eons, I finally get a good look at his face.

           He’s barely aged a day; he’s still the only thing that allows me to believe in Heaven, as he is perfect as an angel. So… so  _ lovely _ … The only sure indication of aging is the fact his hair has grown about an inch past his chin and a couple more down his nape. So  _ terribly _ lovely.

           I watch his frustrated eyes attempt to study me, and the way he glares he might think I’m someone else since the only visible aspect of my face is this lion mask 

           Courteously, I extend a hand to help him up and he accepts reluctantly.

           “Roxas.” I say; clearly, warningly… but most of all, longingly. I reach up and rake my fingers through my hair—pulling off the hood of my cloak. Then, I remove the mask, letting it drop unceremoniously into the sand.

           At first, his face is twisted in confusion; he scans my features, and I’m not certain he recognizes me. Looking into them, now that he’s closer, I see my reflection and don’t blame him for not remembering me. There are healing cuts scattered across my face, my own hair has grown a similar length to his, and my listless eyes… they look heavy, and not at all like mine.

           His eyes open wide, and the beautiful tones of his voice drift from his mouth to my ears.

           “Holy Zeus,” He says, hushed. So terribly,  _ horribly _ lovely. “It really is you…” I realize he hasn’t forgotten me at all, he was only in disbelief. “…Sora.”

           At this, I feel myself break.

           I pull him against me with one hand, place the other behind his head, and kiss him with all my might. Suddenly, all my emotions flood into that well-wanted series of contact. This man with whom I’ve shared all my hopes, dreams, worries, fears, power, and love with is mine again… even if only for a moment. I am a friend with a friend; yang with the yin; a lover with a lover…

           Sora with Roxas.

           I feel his hands lace delicately through my unruly spikes as he pulls me even closer—his soft, wet lips melding with my rough, dry ones in the most imperfect, perfect of ways. I am completely lost: I feel as though I’ve overdosed on every kind of drug that has ever existed and I’m ascending into a state of pure nirvana.

           How long has it been? How long since I’ve been able to lose myself like this, and succumb to such an ethereal bliss?

           How surreal it is… being able to finally have this fleeting time of peace, like some deafening addiction bided in vain. I could almost swear all the darkness, all the scalding negativity, can be sucked away in such a strong vacuum of joy. How could I have ever let him slip through my grasp so easily?

           So terribly, horribly,  _ wonderfully _ lovely.

           Gently, he pulls away from me. Looking into his eyes once more, I notice their newfound gloss accompanying the line of tears streaked over his cheeks; face shifting between relief and uncertainty. I feel myself shudder as his hands slide from my hair, over my jaw line, down my neck, then across my chest. His touch is so intoxicating, my head is a buzzing beehive as if it were kicked repeatedly.

            Finally, while wearing an expression of certainty, Roxas speaks. “I’m sorry,” God, I could roll his voice on my tongue like candy, it’s so sweet. I am about to respond when I see a flash of light between us and feel him shove me as hard as he can. Catching myself before I fall, I barely dodge the Oathkeeper being swiped at me. “But I’m not coming back!” He shouts, jumping back to create ample space between us.

           The sun is almost completely under the horizon, and he won’t have the chance to lash out for long… I’ll let him. 

           Watching his empty hand, I wait for a second Keyblade to appear… but it doesn’t. He might be only able to summon the Oathkeeper now. Feeling cocky, I flick my wrist: a purple haze swirls dauntingly around my gloved knuckles, and the Oblivion appears in my grasp. With a wicked grin, I watch as the action sends him reeling with rage.

           The first whirlwind of light spins the sand around him. I cast Reflega just in time—the glittering shell absorbing the impact and kicking up a cloud of dust. Beams of light spear the ground, then cascade toward me mercilessly as they slice through the sand. Weaving between them, I can sense a familiar hum and instinctively brace myself with the Oblivion; blocking the Oathkeeper right as it comes spiraling toward me. Pushing forward, I whip it back to Roxas and he snags it from midair.

           My turn.

           I send whips of darkness spiraling towards him, cutting through the beams of white and dissipating them into flashes of grey. He creates a spinning column of light around himself, barely able to banish the vectors as they are upon him.

           I’m right behind the darkness, speeding toward him in near silence. As soon as the column vanishes, I’m slicing the Oblivion in an arc down on him—

           But I only hit sand.

           Whipping around, I leap backwards and watch the Oathkeeper spin like a boomerang before me, mere inches from my face, then back to Roxas. More beams of light speed forward and I match them in kind with vectors of darkness.

           “Use it, Sora.” Roxas snaps at me; holding the Oathkeeper with an outstretched arm in his signature way. “I know you want to.”

           He’s right. I’m itching to bring out Anti… but I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.

           “I don’t need it to win against you.” I respond.

           “That’s where you’re wrong!”

           He leaps upward, and orbs of white come barreling at me. I can just barely outstep them, doing my best to dodge without creating too much distance between us. I slice through one, two, three… they crackle into nothingness as they break apart. 

           Suddenly, light flashes across my eyes.

           I swing my weapon backwards to block as he appears behind me. Our blades clash, and I shift my stance to meet him head on. We swing at each other, one blow after the next, as streaks of darkness and light crash into each other like forked lightning above our heads.

           From the outside looking in, this may seem like a grand battle… but we’ve both gotten weaker without each other, and it shows. This is hardly a fraction of our normal power when we’re together.

           The first time we fought like this was in my heart. I didn’t know it back then, but I was proving my worth to him: proving why I deserved to exist when he could not. It was the first time I got a good look at his face, a small glance that etched itself into my memory.

_ “You make a good other.” _

           It was why he resigned himself to his fate. It was why he realized it “had to be me.”

           When did we trade places? Back then, when my heart was intact, I was the light and he was the dark. That rainy night in the World That Never Was, he was holding the Oblivion. Now, since Roxas left me, I haven’t been able to summon any Keyblade other than the Oblivion.

           But… If I had to, I’d do it all over again for him.

           We push away from each other, clearing a large expanse in one leap. The rage flickers in his eyes, and he comes speeding toward me. I recognize this form in an instant, reading my duel stance, then speeding forward to meet him head on.

           We both slash forward without mercy, sliding across the silt in opposite directions as if it were slick ice.

           We stand frozen for a long second…

           Then, I hear something hit the ground.

           Turning around, I see Roxas kneeling, gripping his side, and using the Oathkeeper to steady himself. He’s taking long, ragged breaths… then, he carefully pushes himself back up to stand.

           Wordlessly, he turns, then charges toward me; sloppily swinging the blade while trying to maintain balance in the ever-shifting sands.

           I manage to block and dodge each of Roxas’ resulting strikes, and for a while it reminds me of the occasional Heartless I encounter: one clumsy little swing after the other that’s only effect is amusing me.

           The rage in his features reminds me of our first couple’s spat. I wouldn't tell Kairi about Roxas and I. The truth was, I couldn't bring myself to be honest with her, and it infuriated Roxas. His compassion contrasted my utter apathy. She was surprisingly accepting of us, which stung just a little in its own way. Had she really moved on so easily? It really didn’t matter since I had moved on myself, and there were no hard feelings… but, more than anything else, I was glad for her blessing.

           I’m suddenly tuned back into the battle—if you even want to call it that at this point—when he lands a strategic blow across my wrist. While no real damage is done, aside from one bitch of a sting, I decide it’s time to stop this silly game.

           Focusing in on the Oathkeeper, I will it into my free hand. It protests greatly, struggling like an animal caught in a trap... but since I’m its original master, it has no choice but to comply.

           To Roxas’ chagrin, he is suddenly empty-handed, and a mere flash of white later, I have his blade in my left hand. The purity and light it gives off burns against my grasp as if it were some kind of slow-acting acid, but I force away the pain and focus on him.

            “Done already?” He taunts, “How pathetic!”

           Then, a memory that isn’t quite mine causes me to speak unconsciously: “Get real. Look which one of us is winning!” It just came out of nowhere. Why?

           The sun is a red-orange sliver over the horizon now, with only the radiance of the moon spilling light across the cool Arabian Desert.

           His stature fades from animosity to shock, glossy eyes sparkling with tears in the moonlight; the pallor in his face rivaling the same lunar glow. It takes a lot to will away the strong need to scoop him into my arms and kiss those tears away.

           Suddenly he turns away from me and tries to run, the action practically déjà vu from before as he only manages to fall into the sand.

           “I know I can’t win! Just go away,” He cries out in frustration, “I’m not ready… I need to finish what I started.”

           The pain in my chest is foreboding, almost  _ human _ .  _ Human? _ It feels strange to label myself as such, especially after all these years of stoicism and  _ inhumanity _ I’ve seen emerge from me. My heart has grown so cold and desolate. Maybe  _ I _ should have been the Nobody. Maybe, by a certain tryst of fate, Roxas and I ended up with the wrong roles.

           Strangely, despite Roxas being my Nobody, he was neither a copy nor a reflection of who I was. Roxas and I were two completely different puzzles, yet all our pieces lined up perfectly. I had to wonder how much of myself had been taken when Roxas was given his own form, or how much he'd given me when he was sealed inside of my heart. I never knew someone could mesh so perfectly with another person.

           And then… that beautiful night...

           A big banquet was being thrown in Radiant Garden to celebrate the world’s third consecutive year of a less than 1% Heartless rate. The party took place in the resurrected Outer Gardens, which was now attached to a castle-like hotel to accommodate travelers and tourists. The place was bustling with energy all night, with tasty food and drink in abundance.

           Roxas and I of course had to deal with the formalities: the great heroes schmoozing with the common folk, bumping elbows with officials, politely mingling with everyone else. I was hoping I’d get a chance to dance with Roxas, but people kept coming to talk to me, and my various teammates were getting more turns than I. Axel first, even Kairi, then Riku for a really long time (which made my throat clench for reasons I couldn’t place). Eventually though, I got my chance, and I almost didn’t let him go for the rest of the night. We swung, we swayed, we kissed… it was magic. I could’ve stayed there forever.

           “Sora,” Roxas sighed at one point, “You have to let me go eventually. I need to get some water.”

           I smiled at him, feeling mischievous, “How about we grab something a little stronger?”

           Roxas’ eyes went wide, “We’re only 20—”

           “Who’s going to tell the heroes of the universe they can’t have a celebratory drink?’

           He didn’t say anything else, just laughed. So I went to get us drinks. We didn’t have much, but it was enough to get us both buzzed and giggling for the rest of the evening. Schmoozing became easier, almost enjoyable. We laughed, we cried, we made sure our friends knew how much they were loved.

           At one point I pulled Roxas behind a dark corner to kiss him, and I found myself unable to stop. I wasn’t even that drunk, but there was something about the feel of his skin at that moment that made me want to touch him nonstop. It was getting hot and heavy, I was pressing him against the wall and my lips were finding places less traveled.

           “Stop, stop…” He gasped finally, “We have rooms. Let’s go upstairs.”

           So we did, and I don’t remember ever being so anxious to get into a hotel room. We chose his, and collapsed on the bed.

           Before we split up, Kairi and I had sex plenty of times, though I’d never had sex with another man before.

            I said to him, “This is your first time, I don’t want us to be drunk…”

           “Sora,” He said, “We’re not drunk. It’s fine. Besides, I couldn’t have chosen a more perfect night for this.”

           And so we did. And we kept at it until the sun was up.

           A few months after that, we were in The Land of Dragons on a visit to see Mulan. She invited us to celebrate Chinese New Year in the city.

           We climbed to the top of the palace after the parade, and watched the fireworks. Roxas stared in awe, as it was the first time he’d ever actually seen any, and I watched him. His open-mouthed smile, the colored glow of the streams illuminating his face, sparkles reflected in his eyes… it was too much. The sound of the explosions in the sky rattled in my chest, and I thought my heart would come rocketing out of it if I didn't say anything.

           Just as there was a pause in the noise overhead, I blurted out, “I love you.”

           It was the first time I said it to him.

           He whipped his head toward me, awe turning to shock, face red… then, he smiled and leaned toward me.

           “I love you too, Sora.” He said, and kissed me.

           The fireworks continued overhead, not nearly as loud as my heart was pounding.

           “Roxas...” I plead. I could say his name for the rest of my life.

           “Stop saying that name!” He cries, “How do you even know I’m ‘Roxas’? I don’t even know who ‘Roxas’ is. All I know is I’ve been lied to and cheated all of my life; used like a little doll tugged around on strings by everyone I’ve met. I finally have three years to myself to find out who I am—no, who I  _ was _ , who I  _ could be _ —and I can’t even find a place to start. I couldn’t even save them...”

           Suddenly I realize what this little throb of humanity in my chest is, as another teeth-gratingly painful wave of it pulses past my ribs and up through my throat… heartsickness. 

           “Them?”

           “The Organization. I wanted to find a way to bring the rest of them back to who they were before they became Nobodies. Before Axel left, when we were at Twilight Tower, he said ‘I wish Demyx was here to see this.’ Before I was friends with Axel, it was him and Demyx. The three of us used to go watch the sunset in Twilight Town. They said we didn’t have hearts so we couldn't feel… but we felt all of it. Happiness, sadness, fear, delight… we were something so much more than  _ nothing _ .”

           As he says this, I’m not sure how to respond to it. I shot him down so many times when he brought this up in the past… why didn’t I ask why he wouldn’t let it go? Why didn’t he tell me this?

           He continued, “Axel left us because he wanted to bring Demyx back, and I left so I could find a way to save the rest of them. Not all of the Organization were bad before their hearts were taken, and you know that. They were people with lives and dreams… I wanted to bring them back to that. To who they were. To when they were Somebodies, just like our friends.” He pounds the sand with an angry fist, “I feel  _ guilty, _ Sora. I thought if I could save them, maybe I could find myself. Maybe I could get a grasp on why you and I could be two completely separate people but they couldn't, or why Axel and the others were able to survive despite all odds.”

           “Is that why you ran away?” I ask. He nods slowly, and I can hear his tears dropping into the sand. 

           “I would have told you… but you…” He says lowly, and I feel the shadows weakly tug at my heart, just like every other night. “You thought they were better off dead. And you used me too.”

           I immediately understand what he means, picturing that moment at the tower with the unsaid animosity laden in my few, harsh words. Roxas probably knew it was a rhetorical question to ask anyway, as my feelings were never a secret, but I guess I always assumed he empathized me to an extent; especially considering all the things Organization XIII put him through. I hated them for that, with our recently resurrected allies being the exception.

           Of course, over time, our other companions had to leave. The King had a society to run and a wife to return to. Goofy had his son, Donald had his nephews and Daisy. Riku and Kairi longed to be home on the island. Our new Somebody friends had begun their restoration of Radiant Garden. Axel didn’t leave our side for a long time, but even he eventually had other adventures to pursue.

           After Axel had left, it was the first time Roxas and I had truly been adventuring alone. We’d traveled back to Twilight Town to Roxas’ favorite spot, sitting atop the clock tower. Of course, I got us sea salt ice cream to celebrate the occasion.

           I lifted mine towards him with a smile. “To us!” I said, “The most unstoppable force in the universe!”

           Roxas smiled back, gently tapping his ice cream against mine. “Cheers!”

           We enjoyed our treat in the rare silence of the moment. Normally there was always someone who was talking, or arguing, or whatever… but it was just us now. Roxas and I were protecting the worlds together; the dynamic duo of light and darkness.

           The bustle of the town was too distant to be audible, especially under the gentle wind. Funnily enough, it feels like time stops when you’re sitting at the top of that clock tower. With the breeze and the height, it’s like flying. It was almost tempting to jump off and see if Tinker Bell’s pixie dust worked in that world. The morbid thrill had made my heart race. Faith and trust, right?

           Just then, Roxas spoke up. 

           “Do you think… we could try and figure out what happened to them? The rest of Organization, I mean.”

           It wasn’t until I found out about the events of Castle Oblivion that I came to despise the remainder of Organization XIII. I’d pitied them before, seeing them as little puppets being unwittingly pulled along by their strings. Their plans were relatively commonplace, too: take over the universe, forge Kingdom Hearts, a world drenched in darkness, and all that.

           But after I found out what happened to me for that mysterious year, all the hatred I carried in my heart became focused on them. Maybe it’s selfish, but the fact that they’d directly toyed with my head—with my memories, the things that make me who I am—deeply infuriated me. My memories had been stripped from me, replaced, stripped again, then repaired… and the fact they forced Naminé to do it was even more heinous. We were still just kids then. 

           The memories of my time spent in that mysterious castle had vanished, but I know the scars exist deep down in my subconscious and soul.

           What’s worse is that the bits and pieces of Roxas’ life in the Organization leaked into my mind. I can feel his own pain and turmoil, the heartache of his existence weaved into my memory: spiraling knots and snags of never knowing where you belong, or what’s right, or who to trust.  _ Is this emotion? Can I feel? Why me? _

           It tore me up inside to imagine the feeling of being impossibly lost, then to have whatever normalcy gifted to you vanish into ashes as if Hades himself set fire to your world. The pain was unreal, worse than the deepest scar in the recesses of my consciousness.

           It was unforgivable. The Organization deserved worse than what I gave them. Oftentimes I remind myself that they were lucky I was merciful to them, time and time again, and if anyone else were to bring harm to Roxas I would not be so kind.

           So when Roxas proposed this to me, I couldn’t help the rage that boiled out of me.

           “Wherever they are, I hope they’re  _ burning _ .” I hissed, surprising myself with my own words, “Drowning in darkness would be too merciful and peaceful of a death.”

           I felt the air between us shift. Roxas’ expression was unreadable, but I felt the coldness of his stare gripping me. A small part of me was regretful, wondering if my words were too harsh… but it was a part I smothered quickly. Even the most harsh of truths was better than the softest lie.

           Looking back, it was the beginning of the end for me.

           Among the usual fair disagreements between us, talk of the Organization had become a pickaxe to our lives. Every now and again, he would bring up wanting to find out what happened to them, and I would shoot him down; each time more brutal than the last. I thought every extreme response would deter him from the topic, but it hung over us despite our lives being fine otherwise.

           The last day we spent together, it’d been months since we’d seen a Heartless and we wanted to celebrate. We got dressed up and had dinner in Traverse Town at the cafe. We booked the Red Room at the hotel, had sex, and I drifted off to a peaceful slumber.

           When I woke up next, he was gone.

           The only thing he left behind was his old Organization cloak—an emblem of his previous life that he carried with him—and a note.  _ “Be safe.” _ it said.

           My next quest began.

           I donned the cloak and fully tapped into the darkness inside me. I taught myself to open portals to traverse the Betwixt and Between. As each day passed, the heavier my heart grew both with grief and darkness. I looked everywhere I thought Roxas could be, then where he couldn’t, then all the places in between.

           In this period of time, the Heartless seemed to grow stronger. They’d become ravenous, as if somehow they could sense my lacking power. This cost me much of my time… entirely too much.

           But how did I “use”, Roxas? He is the light within me that helps fight off the shadows consuming me. He is to me what Kairi and I were to Riku long ago, and with Roxas gone, the darkness swallows me a little bit more each night; like a hungry beast snapping at my feet as I dangle over the abyss of my heart. While I can control the darkness all I want, with Roxas gone (the main embodiment of light and humanity that is present in my heart) there will be nothing left to resurface me from the depths.

           I never feared the shadows, nor death, nor any mortal threat…

           But I feared losing Roxas.

           A surge of anger flows through me. If he knew what I’d sacrificed, that my life is on the line, he would understand. I could have chosen to let myself get eaten by the shadows once he left, but I came after him because I  _ love him,  _ not because I need him to survive _. _ I’ve had so much in this life taken from me, I’ve seen so many horrible things, watched as friends like Axel and Tron die, dragged myself along with a grin as I fought endlessly for the best possible outcome...

           ...but I can’t leverage this against him. It wouldn’t be fair. It was never obvious that my heart was aching around him because he made the pain vanish. He made me fearless. He gave me so much, and I tried to give it back in kind.

           Was it truly not enough?

           “I loved you every day, and I let you live however you wanted, whenever you wanted. We saved worlds, I reintroduced you to your friends, we did so much together. And you feel that means nothing? That I was just using you?”

           I drop both keyblades, and they disappear with a flash of their respective colors. The hand holding the Oathkeeper is unscathed, but the burning sensation lingers. The chill of the night wraps itself around me.

           I whisper “ _ Firaga. _ ” and a ring of sand ignites around us; bringing a sudden glow and warmth to the chilled desert night.

           The light is a fleeting comfort amidst the heavily looming darkness. My mouth starts to water, and habitually I pull the near-forgotten, unopened pack of cigarettes out from my pocket. Plopping down into a cross-legged position in the sand, I tap the pack noisily against my palm.

Roxas pushes against the sand to sit on his knees and curse me.

I flatly drawl out “I’m so flattered.”

           My words unveil a deep, throaty sob from his chest and it’s suddenly hard for me to swallow. I know how close he and Axel are, how sometimes it was almost too close ( _ too late) _ . This fact was apparent in Axel’s dying gaze; how he desperately searched my eyes for any scraps left of Roxas granted me a clear look into what his true feelings were. Friendship was phase one and I was the only barrier blocking phase two. Even when we traveled together it was obvious.

           “Wasn’t I something you kept around to make you whole? Just like Axel. Just like…” He trails off.

           “Like?” I urge before pulling a single cancer-stick from the carton and lighting it with the circle in one fluid motion. There is a volatile feeling of  _ do-I-really-want-to-know?  _ as anxiety tickles my throat.

           I begin to take a drag, when I hear him whisper “Riku.”

           I splutter—suddenly unable to inhale the smoke. “Wha—” I hack, “—at?”

           “He loved me like he loved you. And because of that, I somehow loved him back.”

           He turns to face me, adjusting himself into a sitting position. Axel’s memory returns and the strange idea of Riku and I being like Axel and Roxas flits across my conscious long enough to disgust me. He glares down at my flickering shadow and I follow his gaze, straight into yellow eyes, and take a smaller drag this time, just in case he decides to drop another bombshell.

           He continues, “I was almost driven to jealousy, because something inside of me made it feel like a competition for a long time. But then… I found out the way he felt for you was the same for me. It didn’t take me long to figure out I’d become a placeholder after that.” We watch as my shadow peels off of the ground; solidifying itself into a smoking, dark form.

           Anti-Sora.

           I pay close mind to it as it approaches Roxas cautiously. He reaches out and touches it; the latter growling in protest before melting back into the ground and reforming as my shadow. The yellow eyes sink into the sand like glowing marbles; disappearing beneath the surface.

           “Is this what happens,” Roxas asks, bemused, “when I’m not around?” He pulls a knee up to rest his elbow on; cradling his face with his hand. “Looks like without me, ‘grey’ doesn’t apply.” 

           There are varying degrees of darkness within me. Some, I’m pretty sure, I may not even know about. Roxas helped me maintain a balance of light and dark, hence the shades of grey. He is able to tame whatever ugly thing attempts to surface: just like the ease with calming Anti-Sora just now. Separated, we are simply black and white.

           “So, you and Riku?” I ask, refocusing the subject.

           His silence tells me all I need to know. Suddenly Riku’s defensiveness some time back made sense. 

           One day, desperate for an inkling and some relief, I went back to Destiny Islands. It was the one place left without Heartless entirely, and although it was risky for me to take a break from my duties, I needed the moment’s reprieve. 

           The purity of the world reenergized me, and just barely revolted me. Something was slowly changing inside me… but still, I wasn’t afraid of it. What I was afraid of was never seeing Roxas again. What if he ran into an enemy he couldn't take on alone? Even if I found him, what would I say?

           I was surprised to run into Riku, as he’d also been traveling around to help curb the Heartless population. I’d been trying to avoid him as much as possible, knowing deep down he’d be able to see right through me.

           I told him I was trying to find Roxas, but then he snapped at me.

           “Did you ever consider that maybe Roxas doesn’t want to be found?”

           I didn’t have anything to say. I turned to leave, then I heard Riku speak back up.

           “You’re wearing that cloak… Sora, how did you get here?”

           We both knew this was a rhetorical question.

           “See for yourself.” I muttered, stepping into the shadows.

           Can’t say it doesn’t hurt, as a sudden knot in my throat makes it hard to swallow. My spiteful brain imagines a dozen scenarios were I make various quips about sloppy seconds at Riku before I punch him in the fucking face.

           I sit down in the sand, the cigarette hanging loosely from my lips, and allow myself to stare at Roxas. The light of the fire brings an enticing glow to his face. Examining his features, the fact he doesn’t seem to have aged in the least bit reinstates itself—he still has a small build and a reserved stature. There’s only a few marks on his otherwise porcelain skin where slight travel may have betrayed him here and there… it’s practically nonexistent, especially compared to my amount of travel wounds. My eyes continue to wander all across his slim body.

           Suddenly, it feels cold enough to make me want to be near him.

           Without realizing it, I’ve allowed my mind to drift; nonchalantly sending tendrils up from the ground in a circle around him. He notices them only a split second before they snake across his body—and he curses me under his breath. I feel my face twist into a lazy smirk as I let my dark vectors push him back into the sand; he struggles for a second, but I pin his legs down and his arms above his head with the shadows. I suck sweet nicotine into my body before letting a stream of smoke drift from my mouth. I beckon the shadows and they drag Roxas across the sand until he is right in front of me.

           He glares at me; refusing to protest with what I can easily determine is the knowledge I’d enjoy this experience even more if he did. I take a moment to relish both the sight and the cigarette—extinguishing only the latter once I’ve had my fill.

           I lean over him, and lower my head down to his collarbone where I begin to lay a string of torturously slow kisses up his neck. He makes no sound, but I can tell by the sudden flush of his skin and the way he turns his head to allow me more access he’s definitely enjoying it.

           I reach up to grip the part of his wrists that the shadows encircle and feel the dark matter disintegrate to my touch. I hold him down and ghost the fingers of my free hand across his body.

           “I’ve missed this,” I whisper as I kiss right below his ear, “I’ve missed you.” I feel his body relax and I move my lips across the shell of his ear. “I wish you would have told me all of this. Even the Riku thing.” He turns his head to the sky, and I feel the salt of a tear slip over my mouth. I pull back to look into his glassy eyes. “Hell, even I have mysteries about myself I’d like to solve,” I flash him a crooked smile, feeling myself slowly turning back to normal, “All I ever wanted was to be there for you, just like you were always there for me when I needed you.”

           I release his arms and lean back. The magic of my fire starts fading, and I watch the haunting glow of the moon replace the illumination of the embers in his eyes.

           “I wish you would have just asked.” He mutters, choosing to remain lying in the sand. “I needed you to listen.”

           I pause for a long moment to take him in: the ghostly blue of his face beneath the desert night, stars glittering in his eyes...

           Suddenly I feel incredibly stupid. All this time I spent assuming how Roxas felt yet I never thought to even ask. Since we were connected I always imagined his thoughts and emotions would reach me without words. Thinking back, it seems so blatantly obvious now. What a waste of time for both of us… what a waste of three years we could have spent together. For the first time in forever, I can feel tears stinging my eyes; an occurrence I thought impossible since greeting the darkness in my heart.

           “Is it too late to ask now?”

           “I…don’t know.” He sits up. “I’m not sure what I want right now.” Shifting, he turns to face me. “Can you tell me something that will make up my mind?”

           I swallow hard.

           No. I will not use that as leverage. I will not bind you to me like that. That’s not fair to you… not fair to  _ us  _ either.

           “I knew it,” Roxas says, eyes narrowing. “I can see it in your face, Sora… even after all this time, you get that look like there’s something important you don’t want to tell me.”

           I plead with him, “Please don’t make me say it, Roxas. Not like this…”

           His determined gaze bores into me, “Please?”

           I grit my teeth, “The last time I was completely honest with you, you  _ left _ me.”

           “I didn’t leave because of that. I left because I needed to figure shit out on my own, okay? Since you weren’t willing to compromise, I realized the only way to find myself was to be by myself. So would you just tell me?!”

           This is it, the moment I was waiting for this whole time. The opportunity to win him back, and I have to do it in the worst way possible. Yet again, even by my own admission, the harshest truth is better than the softest lie… and Roxas is requesting it.

           But that’s not the only piece to this puzzle. I have to let him know that so he can understand. Zeus, I hope he understands… 

           And so, I let it out—the secret I tethered down to my heart all this time, since that first night beneath the stars.

           “Roxas… you’re the last of the light in my heart. Without you here… the darkness is devouring me. I’ve been holding it off this whole time so I could find you.” Panic flashes across his face, so I hastily continue. “I knew it might end up killing me right when I freed you from my heart… but I chose not to tell anyone. I was willing to leave you in Twilight Town that first day, because your freedom means more to me than my own life; dammit, even the fate of the universe. But I’m not telling you this now to guilt you into staying. The reason I’ve been able to battle the fear and darkness clutching at me is because there’s hope inside of me… hope that exists because it’s inside of you, too. The only reason I’m able to sit here in front of you now is because you wanted me to find you. Right?”

           Roxas glances away sheepishly, and I can tell by his expression that I’m right.

           I add, “I realized something in my heart when I saw it last; something I’d known for a long time that I didn’t quite grasp until I experienced it myself. Darkness and light can’t exist in the universe without a balance… and that balance is almost like love. That’s why they’re inseparable. That’s why one side can’t ever beat the other.”

           His eyes meet mine, brows furrowed, “So all this time, all the battles we fought, and the lives lost…” He crosses his arms in consideration, “But… that makes so much more sense. The Heartless, even the Nobodies, it’s all been getting better not because the light has overtaken the dark—”

           “But because we’ve restored the natural balance.”

           In a blink, he’s gripping the front of my cloak and shaking me violently, “You idiot!” He barks in my face, “You damn idiot! Why didn’t you tell anyone about the balance sooner?! And your heart… Sora, I never would have left if I knew you could _die!_ ” He shakes harder, voice cracking, “If you died because of me… if you died…”

           Through being shaken I ask, “Roxas, do you ever think that maybe this is all just horrible timing?”

           He pauses the assault on my cloak, still teary-eyed and visibly confused. “What… what do you mean?”

           “Maybe we just… both had a lot of growing up to do. Maybe we spent too long surrounded by allies and sharing hurt that we forgot what it means to… just… be. Exist. Whatever.”

           “You know,” He drops his hands to his lap, “That’s something I wondered a few times. I never really had time to be myself—be  _ by  _ myself _.  _ It almost felt like I didn’t have a space to feel what I was feeling. It was like being in the Organization all over again.” Hearing this jabs at my heart, but I let him continue. “That’s what I meant before. What I was looking for out on my own was an answer to my existence and… well, who ‘Roxas’ is. What it means to be ‘me’. But I had to do it on my own.”

           I nod, the words settling on me beneath the desert chill. I wish the things I’d gathered out there in the great wide lonesomeness were even a fraction as profound as that.

           I always thought I’d be the more emotional one of us. Yet, Roxas is the tears and I’m the smile. He’s the logic and I’m the instinct. I’m the sky’s breeze and he’s the hard ground.

           Is this the part where I take his hand, explain my love in a million different ways, and we kiss like nothing ever went wrong? Even after these three years of separation, how do I say I’m still nothing without him? That this time spent apart has only hardened my heart to everything but those last shreds of hope he held out for me?

           I recast Firaga again. No use to endless pondering in the cold.

           He sighs happily at the renewed warmth, holding his upper arms as if it were a blanket across his shoulders.

           “So,” Roxas asks, “What did you learn out there without me?”

           I swallow, suddenly very hungry for another cigarette.

           Isn’t it obvious, Roxas?

           “I learned that…”

           Just then, thoughts that are mine but that don’t belong to me, flash through my mind; several lingering remnants from what once was.

_ I miss having someone to eat ice cream with. _

_ We will always be one. _

_ I’m just getting started with you. _

_ You are my power. _

           This whole time, who I am has been a little piece of so many others. Who I will become is still a mystery to me. I had plenty of time to figure myself out alone, but… being by myself is just not who I am. It never has been.

           “...I’ve still got a lot of searching to do before I find myself.” I chuckle, “I don’t think I’ve had much luck on my own, though. Would you show me how?”

           Roxas stares at me for a long moment, carefully scanning my features.

           “Even after all this time? Even after everything I’ve done?”

           A lot of it really does sting, I will admit. There’s a lot of...  _ nonviolent _ reconciliation that needs to happen with Riku now. I’m going to have to take it easy for a while and let my heart heal. Although my opinions of the Organization are mostly the same, I’m willing to concede if it’s something his heart needs to be whole. But really, more than anything else…

           “What matters the most to me is that you’re  _ alive. _ All I’m asking is that, maybe instead of you tagging along with me… how about  _ I  _ tag along with  _ you? _ ” 

           Roxas cracks a guilty smile. There’s solace in his eyes, but I have to wonder what he’s really feeling. Is it remorse? Is it joy? Is he concerned that might be too good to be true? Are there any stagnant doubts? I’m about to ask when he levels his gaze at me again.

           “Only if you promise me one thing:” He responds, “Let’s have a fair fight one of these days. And you  _ cannot  _ take my Keyblade next time. How about that?”

           I smirk, “Absolutely… but I don’t even think  _ three  _ Keyblades would make you a better fighter than me.”

           His bemused face is apparent under the piercing moonlight and glowing fire. “Just shut up.” he says, leaning forward and kissing me.

           Some part of me, for whatever reason, remembers that once my voice cut through the abyss to give him a second chance… and this time, it was his turn to do the same for me.

           I wrap the darkness around us, sinking us into the deepest depths of blackness and hope.

**_[(!) Party Member Added: Roxas]_ **

* * *

 

_ Exeunt _

* * *

 

A/N: Like I said at the beginning, this FanFiction has been in production for about nine years. This was the last fic I had in production for a long time, and I’ve been slowly adding to it as I’ve played or replayed each KH title. I might make an alternate version after I’ve played KHIII.

I had the initial idea while I was still trying to figure out where Roxas and Ventus’ stories coincide. There’s been multiple reworks, sections have been moved around repeatedly, and I’ve tried two differents modes of storytelling (one chronological and the one you see before you). There’s little bits and pieces of my angsty teen self apparent in some places, and the blending of my writing styles is obvious is some areas. I will say this: Roxas and Sora’s relationship isn’t meant to be perfect, or even “correct” in this story. I tried to convey that, and hopefully it transfers.

Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll! I was having the worst time trying to name this so thanks for the help.

**See you after KHIII. For real this time.**

_ References and Inspirations: _

 

  * __Creep by Radiohead__


  * _Habits by Tove Lo_


  * _Japanese Matsuri._



 

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Please please PLEASE  **favorite, review, send kudos, add bookmarks… anything** !

That’s all I’m going to explain for now because what I really want to know is **_how_** **_you interpreted it._** What areas didn’t make sense? What’s lacking? What did you like about this AU? What didn’t you like? **_I would appreciate your critique so I may take it into future fics!_**


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